Editorials
From Replicants to Ancient Aliens – Exploring ‘Prometheus’ 10 Years Later
Erich Von Däniken first popularized the Ancient Astronaut theory way back in 1968 with the release of his controversial Chariots of the Gods?, which suggested that human civilization was influenced by extraterrestrials that inspired primitive religions. Though the book has been heavily criticized by academics due to its misleading presentation of legitimate historical findings, its popularity has led to everything from sensationalist TV shows to online conspiracy groups, with many people becoming obsessed with this peculiar bit of pseudoscience.
Ancient aliens would explain many coincidences and inconsistencies in our species’ history, so it makes sense that people would become captivated by an idea that acts as a bridge between faith and science, mixing traditional evolution with hints of creationism. While the rise of Fake News and science deniers has made conspiratorial discussions a contentious subject, you’ve got to admit that these concepts make for compelling genre narratives. After all, the hallmark of good science fiction is using futuristic technology and fringe theories to explore intrinsically human concepts like faith and existentialism, so it stands to reason that Ancient Astronauts have become a part of popular fiction.
And the way I see it, there’s one particular movie that stands out with its chilling use of the concept, which would be Ridley Scott’s controversial Alien prequel, Prometheus. It’s been a decade since I first watched it in theaters, but I still look back on the film with a mix of wonder and fascination. Don’t get me wrong, the movie is no masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, suffering from a clunky script, questionable action sequences and some shallow character work, but the picture is built around a series of burning questions that still resonate 10 years later, which is why I’d like to talk about it.
A follow-up to 1997’s Alien Resurrection was actually in the works since 2002, when James Cameron reached out to Sir Ridley Scott with the intention of producing the next chapter in Ellen Ripley’s xenomorph-busting saga. These plans were ultimately canceled when Fox decided to focus on the development of Alien vs. Predator, which led to a falling out with Cameron. However, seeds of that unmade project would eventually lead to Jon Spaihts writing Alien: Engineers in 2009, with that screenplay becoming the predecessor to Prometheus.
It may not be completely superior to the finished product, but I’d highly recommend checking out this original script as it makes a bit more sense than the final draft and some of the set pieces are scarier. Engineers actually led directly into the events of 1979’s Alien, adding a Lovecraftian spin to the origins of both humanity and the xenomorphs as it filled in some of the gaps left in by the original series. In fact, the story was so Lovecraftian that this production ended up sabotaging Guillermo Del Toro’s proposed At the Mountains of Madness adaptation, which featured nearly identical action scenes and plot twists.
There’s no denying the flick’s Lovecraftian influences.
However, Scott ended up consulting with Lost co-creator Damon Lindelof before production began, with the writer suggesting that the project be revised into an open-ended spin-off only tangentially related to the Alien films. Not wanting to repeat himself, Scott ultimately agreed, hiring Lindelof to rework the story with him during the next couple of months. While I have several objections with the alterations made to Spaihts’ script, even I have to admit that making Prometheus stand on its own was the right move.
Even so, the finished film’s overall plot was mostly unaltered. It still followed a group of scientists travelling to a distant planet after archeologists discover a series of clues suggesting that extraterrestrials visited mankind in the past, leaving behind star maps so that they could one day make contact. This Weyland (pre-Yutani) funded expedition ultimately leads the team down an ancient aliens inspired rabbit hole as they discover the sinister intentions that these Alien Engineers had for our species.
Along the way, the story makes use of several religious references, incorporating everything from horrific virgin births to multicultural creation myths and even alluding to the Alien Jesus conspiracy theory. While this important bit of lore is excised from the finished film, Scott would later admit that one of the Engineers’ main motivations for wanting to exterminate humanity was the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, who was apparently a peaceful alien emissary sent by a superior species to aid us in our cosmic evolution.
While removing such a controversial idea makes sense from a marketing point of view, it’s a shame that Scott wasn’t allowed to go all-out with these batshit crazy theories. The director is clearly fascinated with religious and existential themes, and even if you’re not a fan of Prometheus, you’ve got to admit that these are brave concepts to explore in a big-budget blockbuster. Scott would even revisit several of these ideas later on in both Alien: Covenant (another underrated sci-fi/horror romp that deserves its own re-evaluation) and the tragically underseen HBO series Raised by Wolves.
Prometheus is actually filled to the brim with references to Scott’s other work, with several sci-fi elements harkening back to Blade Runner. Weyland’s “I want more life” motivation is clearly a nod to Rutger Hauer’s Roy Batty, and Michael Fassbender’s entire character seems to be a riff on the themes explored in the iconic Phillip K. Dick adaptation. While David is technically not a replicant, the film’s supplemental material hints that Weyland and the Tyrell corporations once competed to produce synthetic life, placing the two franchises in the same universe.
David is the real star of the show.
Beyond the esoteric story, the rest of the film is also a masterful achievement in filmmaking. Thanks to the regal influence of Sir Ridley Scott, this pulpy sci-fi thriller boasts a surprisingly star-studded cast, featuring the likes of Noomi Rapace, Charlize Theron, Idris Elba and the always-lovable Benedict Wong. Even the stereoscopic photography is top-notch, with Dariusz Wolski making this one of the most impressively shot 3D movies out there.
The horror elements are also quite effective, with sinister touches like composer Marc Streitenfeld making the orchestra play his score (and unused Alan Silvestri compositions) backwards and then reversing the music so it sounded eerie in the final film. This creative approach to the film’s scares also extends to its visual design, with the production team originally wanting to avoid copying H.R. Giger’s iconic visuals. However, they soon realized that it was impossible to get away from the artist’s biomechanical nightmares when designing anything xenomorph-related, so Giger was inevitably brought on board as a consultant. Prometheus is actually the final motion picture to benefit from the Swiss artist’s input, with Giger contributing to the project with several new extraterrestrial designs.
These qualities don’t quite excuse infamous blunders like Rapace engaging in intense action sequences minutes after undergoing horrific surgery or less-than-intelligent moments like supposed experts endangering the entire expedition due to unprofessional behavior, but I firmly believe that the creative intent here outshines the film’s flaws. If you think about it, these blemishes only stand out because the filmmaking surrounding them is so damned good in the first place, not because they ruin the experience.
In all honesty, the only issue that truly bothers me here is the bloated ensemble, which doesn’t allow for talented thespians like Elba and Guy Pearce to fully develop their admittedly interesting characters. The over-reliance on supplemental materials like the viral marketing campaign (which produced a series of brilliant short films and in-universe advertisements) to fully comprehend the story is also a bit annoying, especially when so many cool concepts and monster designs wound up on the cutting room floor.
While it’s fun to speculate about the film that Prometheus could have been, I still think that it’s a miracle of a movie despite its numerous flaws. It’s definitely the most creative property to come out of the Alien franchise since the 1979 original, and I think the prequel’s reputation as a missed opportunity is mostly unjustified. In a world where interesting intellectual properties are usually wasted on boring rehashes, Scott somehow managed to gift us with an intelligent standalone thriller that still boasts plenty of treats for hardcore Alien fans, and that’s why it’s still worth revisiting 10 years down the line and beyond.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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